Free Fan Girl by Brandace Morrow Page B

and one on my thigh, I’m thinking it’s not something you can overlook.
    Piercings are much and varied, tiny diamond stud on the left side of my nose, from my college years when I had it done again. My tongue has a stainless steel stud in it. Four regular ear piercings in my left ear and two on top in the cartilage. Right ear also has four regular, with three ascending in studs on the inner rim. My belly button ring is platinum with a ball at the top, diamond at the bottom, and three stars and a crescent moon dangling down.
    My tattoos are bright and colorful, but there is no color in my piercings. With my long auburn hair and bright blue eyes that pop out with all of the blue in my sleeve, I’m pretty happy with how it all came together. Long hours and lots of pain paid off to show on the outside exactly who I am on the inside.
    After showering and getting ready, I put on my flannel PJs, and hear my phone go off. It’s a message from Redy.
    RedyGo: Stop worrying!!
    I grin. Yes, after four years he definitely knows me. I get out of bed, go into the kitchen to grab a banana, and take it back to my feather pillows and down comforter on my king-size bed. Getting settled, I pull up TiVo on my flat screen.
     

Chapter 10
     
     
    A little less than eight weeks later, I'm stuffing my bags in the back of my morning assistant manager, also known as my best friend, Stacie's cherry red '69 Ford Mustang convertible. I’m wearing a brown loose-knit cardigan over a military-style white, button-down shirt, with black leggings and brown slouchy mid-calf boots. My brown aviator shades match a light brown and taupe scarf around my neck ... tied European style, of course.
    “Is this everything? You're taking three bags for three days?” Stacie asks.
    Stacie is a showstopper. She’s totally rockabilly in a blue and white, fifties style sleeveless polka-dot dress and mile-high blue pumps. Her hair is mid length down her back, jet black with tight rolled bangs pinned to perfection. She's way more tatted than I am. All along her arms, not sleeves, just strategically placed, and on her chest, back and one lone butterfly above her ankle.
    “I think I have it all. I always leave something behind and have to buy it. I’m not too worried, I have all of my essentials,” I reply.
    We get into the car and head to LAX. We don’t have to talk shop, because this trip has been planned for a long time. Six months ago when they put the dates up for the concert, I bought my plane ticket.
    At the airport drop-off I kiss Stacie's cheek and hug her close. I could never leave while owning my own shop without someone like her that I trust to take care of it.
    “Have a great time and come home with a shirt in my size, huh?” Stacie asks, as if that's not a given. I always bring shirts back for all six of my employees, also known as the Shell Girls. “Oh and try not to bump into Deklan in the city of love, kay?” She laughs, and I chuckle with her, hoping it doesn’t sound fake.
    “Of course, dah-ling, of course.” I smile back and wave my hand grandly. She knows something has been bothering me for months now. I’ve been distracted and edgy. Maybe I can find some peace after this trip. I still have to tell everyone in the shop about the pregnancy. I’m thinking I have to tell Deklan first though. Somehow.
    “Better get in there,” I say. I hop out of the car, pull my white alligator suitcases with black leather trim and fleur-de-lis out of the trunk and start walking. I love flying, but more particularly, people watching. Everyone having something to do, waving people off, searching for loved ones, and running to catch flights. I get in line and check myself in. The flight attendant smiles brightly, waiting to assist should I need it.
    I’m dressed comfortably, but covering up my tattoos. My hair is down, covering the ear piercings there. I know that TSA 'doesn’t discriminate'. However, it's been my experience that I only get pulled to the